


waste this night away with me

by sithsoupsnakes



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, takes place after TVWLM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithsoupsnakes/pseuds/sithsoupsnakes
Summary: Almost two weeks after Kate's injury, both her and Anthony are getting frustrated by the doctor's orders.Kate's the one to finally do something about it.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield
Comments: 33
Kudos: 186





	waste this night away with me

**Author's Note:**

> i literally hate writing sex scenes and yet this...happened? 
> 
> title from "mine" by bazzi

It’s been almost two weeks since Kate’s injury. The pain is more of a dull ache than anything at this point, her physicians seemingly happy with her recovery thus far, despite the fact that she’s not meant to move it for at least another month.

Kate’s trying to keep somewhat busy despite being bedridden, Edwina bringing her a new book to read practically every day, her housekeeper keeping her updated on all the goings on she needs to know about.

Anthony’s taken to bringing some of his work up to their room, with the excuse that his study downstairs gets too stuffy sometimes, but Kate’s sure he’s just here to keep an eye on her, make certain she’s not sneaking out of bed and hopping around the room or somehow endangering herself.

She’s wanted to call her husband out for his overprotectiveness, for the way he jumps out of his seat in the corner every time she so much as shifts from where she’s propped up in bed with pillows, but Kate’s been content to let him keep fussing.

It was a pretty nasty crash, and knowing what she does now, about his constant thoughts of mortality, Kate’s more than happy to let him fret over her if it eases his mind.

This afternoon, however, Anthony seems restless as he wanders around their room, clearly uninterested in whatever paperwork he’d dropped on the floor a few minutes earlier.

Kate watches him for a few moments over the book Edwina had brought for her this morning, her husband’s pacing much more interesting than the dry poetry she’s been trying to understand for the last hour.

“Are you alright?” she finally asks, trying not to laugh at the way he’s standing with his hands on his hips in the middle of the room, looking about like he’s surveying the area for the first time.

“Course,” he shrugs, trying and failing to be nonchalant. “Why would you ask?”

“You’ve been pacing for quite a bit now,” she responds with a small grin. He’d shucked off his boots and waist coat soon after he came home from some appointments this morning.

Kate finds there’s something quite satisfying in the way her husband always feels comfortable to shed his layers around her, in the way she feels the same, wearing just her wraparound nightdress in bed, now that it’ll be just her and Anthony in the privacy of their room for the rest of the night.

Anthony shrugs again after staring at her for a long moment. “I’m fine, Kate.”

She tilts her head at him, recognizing the slight flush on his cheeks, the way he gets when he wants to wrap himself around her.

He’s desperate, she realizes, probably missing the joys of their marriage bed as much as she is.

Anthony’s been the consummate husband and caregiver the past two weeks, so gentle in the way he’s helped her with her injury, pressing kisses to her temple as he adjusts the pillows keeping her upright in bed, holding her hand tightly as the physicians have poked and prodded at her broken leg.

But they haven’t lain together since the crash, what with Kate wincing in pain every time she so much as shifted in bed for the first few days.

It’s better now, but Anthony, being the slightly overdramatic worrier that he is, has kept his distance, and Kate’s certain it’s killing them both, even if she isn’t quite sure how to remedy the situation.

All she knows is that she wants her husband close to her, wants to see him smiling and sated, not tense and frowning the way he is now, looking over her vanity like he might find something interesting there.

Kate watches his back now, swallowing slightly at the way his strong shoulders roll back underneath his shirt. She desperately wants to feel those muscles underneath her hands again.

Does he know, how much she longs for him? It’s getting a little ridiculous at this point, the way her desire builds even more every time Kate lays her eyes on him.

Just watching Anthony stand across the room has her stomach flipping with need. Does he think about her the way she does him? She knows men will seek their own pleasure in hand if they’re that in need. 

Kate wants to see it, suddenly. She’s had Anthony in her hand many times at this point, but it was always the buildup before he entered her, or a quick afterthought once he’d brought her to her climax with his mouth.

She closes her eyes at the memories of those times, when she had trusted him completely, practically crying with need as his tongue did the most wicked things to her.

But she wants to see Anthony, wants to see what he does to bring himself off, how he would touch himself if she weren’t there.

“You seem pent-up. Frustrated,” she says finally, with an air of indifference. 

He turns to her slowly, brow still furrowed. “Well- I am.”

Kate holds her breath for a brief moment. She might be completely wanton, the most sinful woman in all of London, but she doesn’t care at this point. She knows Anthony wants her, and she needs him back. “Sexually.”

He actually laughs out loud at that, but it’s devoid of humor, more desperate than anything. “I am.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” The words come out more choked than she’d intended, but Kate can’t help the images that run through her mind at the thought of Anthony taking his pleasure, at the memories of their time together before her damned injury.

His faces reddens at that, and he gestures helplessly to her leg, still wrapped and propped up by pillows. “Believe me, I would. But your doctor said-”

She sighs, cutting him off effectively. “I don’t mean with me like _this_ , Anthony…” she can’t quite vocalize what she’s asking of him.

Kate’s restless, and wanting, and her husband is still standing halfway across the room, handsome as ever, even with the scandalized look upon his face.

“Kate,” he sputters, “if you’re suggesting I look for…satisfaction anywhere other than our marriage bed, I-”

“No!” she squeaks out, embarrassed now that she might have to further explain what she wants. But she wants it. “Just- come here,” she whispers, patting the side of the bed.

Anthony ambles over slowly, smiling slightly at her pursed lips. As soon as he sits, leaning over to brush his lips across her brow, Kate feels at ease. It’s so strange, the way her husband lights a fire within her, and yet soothes her at the exact same time.

He pulls back after another kiss on her temple, but Kate grabs him by the shirt, pulling him in for a searing kiss, trying to imbue all the nervous energy that’s filling her.

“I miss you,” he whispers against her lips.

She bumps her nose against his, relishing the returning smile he sends her at the motion, the one she feels against her mouth. “I’m right here,” she says back. 

But she knows what Anthony means, because she feels the same: she misses his body covering hers, the way he fills her so perfectly, the way they can bring each other over the edge and back again.

He moves his mouth to her jaw, breathing more than kissing, but just the closeness of him has her sighing, that spark shooting all the way down to her center. “I know,” he rasps against her neck, “I can’t wait to hold you again.”

“You can hold me now,” she almost whines.

Anthony pulls back with a raised brow. “I don’t want to hurt you. The doctor said your leg must remain elevated. No physical activities.”

“I know very well what the doctor said,” she responds with a roll of her eyes. She’d wanted to scream in the man’s face as he said it so plainly, like it was so easy for a newlywed to lie still for the next month.

Anthony returns to her neck, kissing once gently before he leans back again, looking more disappointed than ever. “Soon,” is all he says before he makes to get up, but Kate’s not done yet. She grabs onto his hand, pulling him back to her.

“Just…” she huffs out, annoyed that he hasn’t mastered how to read her mind just yet. “I don’t want you to be frustrated.”

He laughs at that, eyes twinkling. “I’ll survive. I just want you to be healthy, Kate. And happy,” he says quietly, bringing a hand to her cheek. She leans into it, unable to take her eyes off of Anthony.

She can’t help but pull him in again, kissing him slowly. He matches her pace, hand strong yet gentle along her jaw. She pulls back a fraction, biting his lip slightly, and he groans against her.

“Kate…” he rasps out, clearly about to pull away again. Damn his concern for her recovery, as sweet as it is.

“I meant what I said, Anthony,” she says quickly, trying to get the words out before some sense of propriety takes over again. “You could still…” she brings a hand to his upper thigh, smiling slightly as he raises his eyebrows at her gesture. “You could still do something about it.”

“What are you saying?”

Is he really going to make her say it? She breathes in once, then out. 

At the start of their marriage, Kate would never have presumed to be the object of his fantasies, but over time, Anthony made it quite clear that it was her he desired, that he got every satisfaction he needed from their time together in bed. 

He’d even said, more than once as he pressed into her, how perfectly they fit together, how he’d dreamed and fantasized about their most intimate moments.

His admissions give her strength, Kate realizes. Strength she didn’t even realize she wanted, strength to feel confident in their marriage and in herself, to feel desired. Strength to explore those fantasies for herself, even as she’s bedridden and certainly a bit unkempt in her injured state.

“I’m saying…” she strokes his leg again, watching as his eyes darken even further. “…you could take pleasure for yourself, with your hand.” She can barely squeak out the last few words. It’s one thing to think such things in the safety of her own mind, but it’s another to say it out loud, even to her own husband.

Anthony narrows his eyes at her, a slightly amused grin growing on his face. “I do that already, Kate.”

She huffs, having figured as much, but she’s not letting herself quit now. “And do you,” she starts, whispering, Anthony leaning closer to hear her words. “Do you think about me?”

He nods, still smiling. “Always.”

Kate can’t help the shiver that runs up her spine at the image. Her husband so desperate for her, that he has to resort to taking himself in hand, perhaps even as she’s only one room over. 

She wants to see it. She wants to see him vulnerable, chest heaving with want, bringing himself off in front of her, only able to look, but not touch.

But how the hell can she say all that? She can barely admit it to herself.

They’re both quiet for a few moments, just staring into each other’s eyes, breathing slightly labored. The silence, the comfort between them, it gives Kate strength again. 

When Anthony looks at her like this, eyes alight with contentment, it makes her feel like she could do anything. He holds no expectations, no judgements; he’s just looking at her with love and desire, and she knows her gaze must be conveying the same emotions.

It doesn’t mean her next words don’t come out even quieter than her last. “You could do it here.”

Anthony shifts on the bed, clearly understanding her, but gulping slightly at her request. “Here?”

“You could think about me, even if we can’t make love,” she swallows as well, heat pooling at her core at the many memories of doing just that. “You could-” she tightens her grip on his leg, not on purpose, just already slightly drunk on the images running through her mind, “-watch me, and think about me, and-”

She’s interrupted by Anthony’s mouth pressing against hers, slightly wild as he deepens the kiss almost immediately. He pulls back before she can truly sink into it, but the whiplash just leaves her more breathless and desperate than before. 

“You,” he breathes out, staring at her so intensely that Kate almost says damn it all, almost tackles him right then and there, any pain banished from her mind in comparison to the ecstasy that being with Anthony can give her. “I love you.”

She smiles at that, sliding her hand even further up his thigh, just barely grazing his hardness. Kate was never sure what marriage would look like for her, if she found herself wed at all, but never in her wildest dreams did she think she could have all of this: love, respect, desire, true companionship, all wrapped into one. 

“I love you.” She pauses for a moment before continuing, sighing as he bucks slightly against her hand. “And I want to see you.”

In a flash Anthony’s standing, wrestling his shirt off his body. Kate would laugh at his struggle with the buttons if she could tear her eyes away from his chest, once again silently cursing the carriage that put her in this position, unable to stand, unable to go to her husband and drag her lips all the way down to his navel.

Anthony rips the piece of clothing away from him eventually, pausing when he sees Kate still staring at him. “Where would you-” he looks around the room, eyes eager. “Where would you have me?”

His question leaves Kate without air in her lungs. She’s paralyzed for a moment, unsure of what he wants from her, but feeling strangely in control, despite being unable to get up, despite how unmoored she feels at the sight of Anthony’s mussed up hair, his broad chest.

She looks around the room for a moment. She’s almost overwhelmed by the possibilities. Does she want him on the bed, next to her, so close he could reach out to touch? 

Or perhaps in the chair across from the bed, where she can see him in full, even in the slowly fading afternoon light. Where she can see the strain in his thighs as he strokes himself, where she can see his whole face as he thinks about all they could be doing. 

Kate so often misses exactly what he looks like in the throes of passion, because he does so good a job of pushing her to abandon, too overcome with pleasure to focus on all the little intricacies of his face as he reaches his finish.

Who knew that a woman could complain about her husband being _too_ attentive in the bedroom?

Kate points to the chair, as breathless it’s as if he’s touching her from where he’s standing. “Will you sit? So I can watch you?”

Anthony seems to agree, as he drags the chair closer, all the way to the side of the bed where he was just sitting. He sits promptly, eyes never leaving her face. He’s straining against his trousers, which he hasn’t removed yet.

He’s still close enough to touch. Kate would only have to lean forward a bit to reach his knee from where she’s propped up, but she stays put. Surely the movement wouldn’t hurt her leg, but she likes the idea of Anthony only being able to touch himself, only getting to fantasize about her.

“What do you do,” she whispers, “when you use your hand? Can you show me?”

His eyes close at that, almost like he’s in pain. Kate watches as he brings his hand to his hardness, gripping himself briefly before removing his pants and socks entirely, falling back into the chair with his legs spread slightly.

Kate lets herself look, lets her eyes run over the muscles in his legs before focusing on the way he palms himself. She feels wanton as she looks, desperately wanting to sit up and climb on top of him, but instead only sighing as she returns her gaze to his face. “Will you tell me what you think about?”

Anthony grips himself fully at that, nodding as he begins to stroke himself slowly. “I dreamed about you, before we were married.”

The admission has her raising her eyebrows. “What did you dream about?”

A rakish grin crosses his face as he picks up his pace just slightly, still leaning back in the chair. He’d almost look relaxed, if Kate didn’t know him so well, couldn’t see the way his stomach is heaving slightly, the way the knuckles of left hand whiten as he grips the armrest of the chair.

The sight of him has Kate moving her hand down to rest on her lower stomach, so close and yet so far from where she wants to be touching.

“Defiling you, mostly.”

She can’t help but snort at that. “You could never defile me.”

Anthony looks down at his position, hand still moving quite slowly. “What do you call this, dear wife?”

She bites her lip as she sees the tendons in his forearm flex, clearly trying to show restraint. “Your husbandly duty?”

“Does that mean you should be performing your wifely duty?” he asks with a smirk, nodding at where her hand rests.

“I-” she’s about to object, to allow herself to feel shame for even considering such behavior, but she looks to Anthony again, pleasuring himself just at the sight of her, and it’s all she needs before she shifts slightly to untie her nightdress, thanking her unconscious forethought to wear such an easily removable piece of clothing today. 

Kate slowly pulls the dress open, Anthony’s eyes following her movements closely as he shifts in his seat. She slides down her pillows as much as she can, just enough so she can move her hand in between her legs.

She’s already wet, just from watching Anthony, but she’s nervous to touch herself in front of him.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, almost moaning as he watches the movement of her hand. It spurs her on as she closes her eyes and imagines it’s his fingers opening her. She lightly runs her free hand up her stomach, biting her lip as she brings it to her nipple, kneading it slightly the way Anthony would do if he were pressed up against her right now.

“I think about you all the time,” he continues, shifting forward slightly in his seat. “It makes me go mad sometimes, how much I think about you.”

It’s nothing he hasn’t said before, but the rasp in his voice ignites her even more, trying to keep her breathing steady as she focuses her ministrations on that one small spot. “I like that you think about me,” she sighs. “I think about you too. Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Anthony groans, rolling his head back as he grips himself tighter, trying to hold off on his finish for now. “I think sometimes I liked making you mad, just to see how flushed you got, how beautiful you were when you were in my face.”

A giggle bursts out of her at that. “I’ll yell at you every day, if you’d like.”

He shakes his head, unable to sit fully still as he gets closer to his end. Kate hears him mutter a few expletives as he watches her, the longing in his eyes spurring her on even more.

She slips a finger inside herself, whining slightly as she goes. It’s not nearly enough, but nothing ever is compared to Anthony.

“Can you come here please?” she practically demands, suddenly deciding Anthony is ridiculously too far away.

In an instant he’s looming over her, slightly nudging her legs apart to plant his knee between them. He hesitates for a moment. “I don’t want to jostle you too much.”

Half of her wants to wrap her injured leg around his hips and pull him into her, but Kate knows he’s right. She opts to pull his body closer on top of hers until he rests his elbow next to her head, their bodies almost completely pressed together.

“Will you finish on my stomach?” The words come out broken, with both embarrassment and the struggle of speaking through her own building need to reach her peak.

Anthony practically loses it at that, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck as he thrusts into his hand above her. She wants to cry with how good it feels to have him surrounding her, how much she loves the closeness between them as he practically ruts against her stomach.

She guides his head from her neck and places his forehead against hers, loving the way their breathe syncs up together. “I want to see your face,” she whispers against his mouth, “I want to watch you, while you think about coming inside of me.”

It seems that’s all Anthony needs, because he reaches his peak just a few moments later, release and ecstasy written all over his face as he groans on top of Kate.

She smiles at the sight of him, somehow even more aroused by the wetness low on her stomach. It’s pure instinct when she slides her free hand between their bodies to run a finger through it, Anthony watching with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips. She’s brought her mouth to him before, relished in the strange power she felt kneeling before him as she took him in, but this is something else entirely.

She’s torturing him, maybe, as she sucks on her finger far too long, moaning as she fills herself with another finger, more than ready to reach her own finish.

Anthony finally breaks out of his reverie above her, the arm that’s holding him up almost shaking as he drags his fingers through his come, Kate almost screaming when he swiftly brings those now wet fingers to her core.

Anthony practically flings her hand out of the way to replace it with his own, but Kate finds herself unable to complain with the expert way he curls his fingers as he enters her.

“I’m so close,” she huffs out. “Will you talk to me?”

He laughs against her cheek. “I want to tie you up again, the way I did at Aubrey Hall.”

She shudders with delight at the memory. Every time she’d given herself over to Anthony in bed, she thought she’d seen it all; thought she had experienced the deepest pleasure one could ever feel, but he always showed her there was more.

Even now it felt different, since he’d opened himself up to loving her, Kate doing the same in return. They were more sure of each other, of themselves. 

Kate had never thought you could feel safe when you gave yourself over to another, but Anthony showed her it was possible. She could put her pleasure in his hands and know without a doubt he’d do right by her, just like he’s doing now.

It’s a heady feeling, this trust between them.

“You can do anything to me, Anthony,” she says as she looks into his eyes. “Anything.”

He groans at her words, licking down her chest as his fingers pick up the pace. God, she’s so close.

He starts muttering, Kate barely able to understand him through the kisses he places along her collarbone.

“You could do anything to me, Kate,” he mumbles. “I want you to tear me apart, put me back together.” Kate brings a hand to the back of his head, gripping tightly as she gets near the end. “Want you to ride me, use me however you like, whenever you like.”

It’s the desperation in his voice that does it for her, the image of taking her pleasure from her husband, just as she’s doing now, finally pushing Kate over the edge. 

She damn near rips a few hairs out of Anthony’s had as she finishes, breathe shallow, hips rising off the bed with the last forceful press of his fingers within her.

It’s a slow comedown, with the way Anthony sighs contentedly as he puts his weight fully on top of Kate, wiping his hands on the sheets and seemingly not having a care in the world about the mess between them.

It’s almost comforting now, the way Anthony’s weight presses against her, even though she knows in a few minutes she’ll want to throw him off. But for now she lets him stay, smiling as he snuggles against her, half dead to the world in this state.

“Do you feel better now, my lord?” she giggles into his ear. “Less frustrated?”

He responds with a gentle kiss to her jaw, and Kate takes that as a sign of success. Perhaps this injury won’t make everything completely impossible.

**Author's Note:**

> um??? lmao 😳 hope you enjoyed Anthony and Kate struggling to get it on i love them sm
> 
> here's my [tumblr!!!!](https://sithsoupsnakes.tumblr.com/) feel free to come talk to me about bridgerton or anything else


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